Hope Rewarded
by Suzie's Q
Summary: Lily never gave up hope. Part Two to A New Hope.


Don't own anything.

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**Hope Rewarded  
**Summary: Lily never gave up hope.  
Pairing: J/L  
Word Count: 2,902  
Genre: K+

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In the first few weeks of little Harry Potter's existence, Lily could remember spending as much time as she could with the boy. She was sure this was only natural for a mother – especially a first-time mother – but it was more than that.

There were two boys in her life who were more important than anything or anyone else. She had already lost one, and she was determined not to lose another. Especially not when, even at such a young age, Harry bore such a strong resemblance to his father.

She was positive he had the same nose, the same ears, the same jet black hair. She even thought that if she had seen James as a baby, he would have had the same toothless smile, the same chubby little hands, the same way of kicking one of his legs as though he was just figuring out that he had legs to kick.

Since Harry had arrived, it was hard to cling onto the notion that James coming back was a sure thing. She still had hope, unbreakable hope, but the prospect of living out the rest of her days without him seemed so much more real since Harry's arrival.

That was why Harry was more precious than ever. One thing Lily was sure of was that James would never be gone from her. In Harry, James was alive and with her.

She didn't admit to anyone, but another reason she insisted on keeping Harry so close to her was to ease the loneliness. In under a second, Harry had broken down all her barriers and nestled himself into her heart so firmly, so completely, he dulled the pain of being lonely. She wasn't alone anymore.

And now, the future looked even less bleak than it had done when he was born. She could see him taking his first steps, learning to talk, maybe having to get glasses like his father. She could see his hair sticking up at the back, herself trying to tackle it every morning. She could see reading to him until he fell asleep, while he gazed at the pictures in awe. She could see him standing on the platform, fresh-faced and strikingly similar to his father on _their _first day of school.

She could see Harry learning to play Quidditch. She could see him taking out his father's old broom when he was supposed to be staying inside.

But she could also see him asking where his father was. She could see him looking at the pictures around their house curiously, wondering why he had never met the man with glasses and black hair, who looked so much like him. He would ask her why he wasn't there.

And it was terrifying. But it steeled her hope, and she forced herself to see her future with James there. She forced herself to see her family, all three of them. Maybe even more, if they were lucky enough. James teaching Harry how to play Quidditch. James giving Harry his cloak when he went to Hogwarts, instructing him on how to find the map (and pretty much ensuring his son got into trouble at the same time).

That dream was fading. But it was not lost.

She spent a lot of time in her bedroom, Harry cuddled into her chest. She didn't care if he was sleeping peacefully, gripping one of her fingers tightly in his whole hand, or wide awake, peering up at her with curious eyes – _her _eyes. The proof that there was more to him than just James. That he was the best of both Lily and James. She imagined that no thought would have made James prouder than that one.

She didn't care if he was crying in her arms, squirming – it was actually even sort of a relief to see someone _else _crying for a change, and she almost lived to comfort him. He was quickly becoming her whole world, and she could stare at him all day long, giving him soft toys (they almost immediately went to his mouth) or reading to him (not knowing or caring if he understood what she was reading yet).

He was so small, so helpless and harmless; he relied on her so completely to care for him, and she spent every waking moment caring for him. It was a distraction, but also a compulsion. She loved this baby more than she thought possible.

He had shifted her world so radically.

And she was with Harry when it shifted again.

She was in her bedroom, as usual. The basinet was at the end of the bed, close as Lily could fit it to her. She wanted to always be beside him. She rarely left him out of her arms, but she had set him down, as he was fast asleep, purely to give her tired, sore arms a rest, and perhaps make herself some food and get a shower. Take a nap, she thought wistfully.

In the end, the nap won out. She had barely taken three steps towards the hall before she'd changed her mind, curling up in her bed again. Her bed. Not their bed anymore, not after so long. But it was still much too large for her, and she felt impossibly small in it.

She'd been drifting off only, when Marlene – since the baby had come, there were at least two girls from the Order with her at all times – burst into the room, wild-eyed.

Lily jerked up and took in her haggard appearance. Strands of her hair were coming loose all over her face, which was red and sweaty as if she'd been running. Her eyes were gleaming.

"Lily," she breathed, standing in the doorway. "Thank goodness you're here." She was speaking softly – she'd obviously noticed the baby sleeping.

"What is it now?" Lily mumbled, rubbing her tired eyes.

"He – he – he sent me to come get you," she gasped out, leaning over and clutching her side, breathing deeply through her nose. "He kept asking for you. We could barely get him to go to the hospital without seeing you first."

Lily stood up, staring at the other girl, her heart clattering against her ribs. "Is – is he okay?" she croaked out. Her knees were shaking.

A crease appeared between Marlene's eyebrows. "He's alive."

He was different. He was filthy, and pale, and so thin it broke Lily's heart to see him. Any wounds she could see had been cleaned, and bandaged where they needed to be, but if anyone had tried to do anything about the bruises, it had had no effect. He looked terrifying.

He was fast asleep by the time Lily had dressed both herself and Harry and arrived at the hospital.

She sat by the end of his bed, Harry in her arms. She couldn't bear to leave him at home. This was the first time that Lily would see James in months. She wanted it to be the first time that Harry would see his father.

There in the silence of James' room, the similarities between the two boys were even clearer; the shape of their noses, even down to the curl of dark eyelashes.

He didn't wake while Lily was there, and as she left – knowing it was impractical for her to stay – she felt a bitter pang in her gut at the idea of him waking up without her.

James slept for days. By the third, Lily knew that it was impractical for her to keep going to the hospital, if she planned to keep Harry with her at all times. She had to keep him in her arms at all times, because there was nowhere to set him down. He got cranky very easily, and she didn't have anything to distract him with except his dummy. She didn't want to bring anything noisy in case it woke James up. He looked so exhausted that she couldn't bear herself to wake up him, no matter how much she wanted to. There was nowhere to change Harry, and she had to keep sending people around to their flat to bring more nappies and milk.

But she wanted Harry to see him. She wanted more than anything for Harry to know that this man was his father, that he really did exist, and he was really coming back to them, just like she'd promised. And once he was able to, he would take the best care of them.

After a few days, she realized that she couldn't care for a newborn properly in the hospital. So she went every day for forty-five minutes – the longest she could leave Harry with someone who wasn't her – and replaced the flowers beside his bed and fixed up his room and sat with him. He never stirred. The Healers told her that his body needed time to recover. That he would wake up when he was ready.

She poured her devotion into getting the flat ready for when he did wake up. Apart from her room or anywhere Harry was, she hadn't really cared much for the house. It took her two days to get the kitchen back into its immaculate state. It had been _clean, _but it was darker and dirt was building up on the cupboards and drawers. The surfaces didn't gleam like they used to.

She did it the Muggle way, only when Harry was sleeping, because it gave her a release for her tension, all her pent-up energy that came with the anticipation of James' arrival.

She tidied up the spare room, and she couldn't really pinpoint why, but she placed Harry's cuddly toys around the living room. They were brightly coloured and safe-looking. She felt that they would help, somehow.

James arrived home with a sentence to two weeks bed rest. His wounds had been bandaged, and his bruises had turned yellowish as they healed. He'd been cleaned up, but he still looked thin.

Sirius and Remus picked him up from the hospital, which Lily didn't mind, because she knew how much they wanted to see him, but that they were planning on giving the family a lot of space once he was home, and were aware that they'd need a bit of time. It was considerate of them, really, and it gave them a chance to talk with him properly while still giving them their space.

Lily realized, as she fixed the covers on the bed for the thousandth time that day, that while she had insisted the whole time that he was coming back, and never doubted, she had never imagined the moment. She was so focused on what would have become of her life if he ever came back, she hadn't really given much thought to what would happen when he did. It was strange to think that she had believed she had hope, but never even thought about what would happen when he was home.

But here he was, someone had delivered unto her a second miracle walking through their front door, and she forgot everything. She forgot what day it was, she forgot her own name. She even forgot for a quarter of a second, as he wrapped his arms tentatively around her and clung to her, that their child was sleeping soundly in the next room.

Lily got him sitting down, and it was quiet for a few minutes before she started to worry. She got him a glass of water and she knew she was staring at him, but she couldn't bring herself to stop.

He was quiet, and when she sat beside him, he gripped her hand tightly and didn't let go, until the sound of a baby crying filled the flat, and his hand went slack in hers. He looked at her, startled for a second. "That's –"

Lily nodded, and tears sprung to her eyes as she blinked over at him. "You ready to meet your son?" she mumbled.

"I have a son," he breathed, nodding as he got to his feet and followed her towards their bedroom. He walked slowly, with deliberation and a barely noticeable limp.

Lily took Harry up with a sense of familiarity, placing his dummy in his mouth and soothing him quietly, sitting down at the edge of the bed. James hovered in the doorway for a minute or two, until Lily lifted her head and beckoned him over.

He sat down beside her, staring at the tiny baby with an unreadable expression. Lily looked down at Harry, who was starting to calm, peering up at this new man with a curious expression. She imagined what it was like to see him for the first time: wide eyes, often with heavy lids from drowsiness, and tufts of black hair just like James; a tiny, round pink face with a familiar nose, and an innocent, toothless smile.

Lily felt a pang in her heart. Harry should have known him. Lily didn't know if Harry could recognize his voice, when he should. James should have been speaking to her stomach every night. Harry was supposed to know him. And Lily wasn't sure if Harry knew how important this person was, to the both of them.

"This is him?" he croaked, his hand hovering just behind the baby's head.

Lily just laughed softly, tapping Harry's nose. "I certainly hope so. This is Harry."

"Harry," he repeated, like it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. Harry gave a tiny start at his name, his fingers twitching. James looked like he was about to collapse, but he still held out his arms awkwardly. "Can I-?"

"Of course," Lily said quickly. "Of course you can." Gently, she shifted Harry in her arms before moving him into James', one hand cradling the back of his head.

He swallowed, staring down at him, awestruck. "He's heavier than I expected," he whispered, rocking Harry gently in his arms. Lily smiled, wiping tears from her eyes as she rested her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. She felt like she could breathe again.

"My son," he mumbled, as Harry blinked up at him and grabbed hold of James' finger. "Lily," he croaked, laughing through his tears. "Lily, he's got my finger."

She sniffed and nodded, kissing his shoulder. She wrapped an arm around him, and he cradled Harry in his arms like he was more precious than diamonds, and they stayed cuddled there for a long time, silent.

"Lily... he's beautiful," he whispered. It seemed like her two boys would never get tired of staring at each other, figuring out what features of their faces they shared, working out just how similar they were.

"Isn't he?" she mumbled, beaming at him, though she was still sniffling. "We've both missed you so much. Harry couldn't wait to meet you."

He nodded, chewing on his lip as he watched Harry. The baby didn't do much, except blink up at the pair of them and occasionally yawn or shift slightly, stretching to get more comfortably, or figuring out how to move his arms – he'd forgotten since the last time – with jerky movements.

"Lily, I'm so so-"

"Don't apologize," she mumbled, curling into his side. "Please don't. There's no need. We knew you were coming back. Didn't we, Harry?" she murmured, brushing Harry's fine, soft hair back gently.

"He's so tiny," he croaked, sounding like he was close to tears.

"I know," she whispered, smiling at him softly. "Look, he knows you," she said quietly, as Harry smiled and sucked on his fingers. "See, Harry? I told you dada was coming to see you."

Harry kicked his legs, and when Lily looked up at her husband, it made her heart swell to see the expression on his face.

Things moved slowly. James wasn't an easy fix. He spent a lot of time sleeping, and he woke up from nightmares more often than not. But he also spent a lot of time with Harry; taking the three am feeds to escape the nightmares seemed easiest for him.

Lily did all she could, bringing him water and staying with him. But Harry helped to knit them together in a different way. James was awestruck by everything about him. He wanted him in his arms as much as Lily had wanted him in her arms at the start.

When Harry was about six months old, and they had just set him down for the night, James crawled into bed beside her. He had slept for eight hours for the past two nights. He was still thinner than he once, but he ate regularly for the most part. There were no traces of the bruises, and the scars that remained were only very faint.

He kissed her temple, and sighed. Lily smiled back at him, encouragingly. "I'd spend more time with him if he didn't get so sleepy so often."

Lily nodded, watching his face curiously. "I know. But he'll grow."

"I can't wait," he whispered, turning off the light. How awestruck he was by his son was clear on his face, clear in how much time he spent with Harry, clear by how much he whispered to her that he couldn't believe it, that he had a _son. _Lily smiled as she cuddled down to go to sleep, safe in the knowledge that James would never miss another moment of their wonderful son's life again.

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